


Walk The Plank!

by Ewebie



Series: Tumblr Shorts [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Is there any universe in which they aren't bffs and adorable?!, Kid Fic, Kid John, Kid Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewebie/pseuds/Ewebie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt was from "whataremylines" and brought to my attention by May_Shepard:</p><p>“I jumped out of a wardrobe in IKEA screaming ‘For Narnia!’ and landed on you by accident” AU</p><p>And... well... It needed to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk The Plank!

**Author's Note:**

> Original Post: http://ewebie.tumblr.com/post/123717681543/friday-ficlet-fluff

“This will be WAY better than hide and seek, John,” Harry grinned. “Trust me.”

“So… I go hide, and you have to find me. And I can be anywhere? In the whole store?” John glanced around the lobby, the acres of space, the people, the entire fake rooms, a sense of wonder at the vastness shifting his posture open in the way only seen in children.

“Yup,” Harry nodded.

“What if you can’t find me?” John asked quietly. He was well aware of his sister’s short attention span, and his rather adept hiding skills. “Won’t mum be cross?”

Harry sighed irritably. “Mum won’t know.” When John frowned she rolled her eyes to the ceiling as if asking for patience. “Look, you’ve a watch on. If I don’t find you by, say, three, then we’ll meet back here. Alright?”

John’s face spread in an unrestrained smile that lit up his young face. “What if I find a lamppost in a wardrobe?”

“John,” Harry groaned.

“And a talking lion?” he raised a brow.

“John, stop.”

“Or a fawn? Or like… a whole other world? There’s got to be hundreds of different wardrobes in this place.”

“John, those books will rot your brain.”

He grinned at his sister. She’d never found the same attraction to books and reading as he had. She’d never really found learning all that educational, and she’d certainly never found school appealing for the lessons. The boys on the other hand… “Brain rot isn’t a thing, Harry!”

“I’m only counting to thirty,” she warned, turning her back and pretending to cover her eyes. John missed the wink she sent to lad pretending to browse the nearby shelf. And he missed the meaningful glance the lad sent back. “One… Two…”

John giggled; he was only ten, and freedom was rare in his house. Then he took off at a run, weaving through the weekend crowd, heading for the faux bedrooms. Harry waited until he was out of earshot to stop counting, and out of eye line to make her way over to the lad.

When he reached the numerous bedrooms, John had to pause. There were so many. So many rooms, so many options. He grinned as he noticed the bin of toys, scooping up a plastic sword and shield, before his eyes landed on the perfect, Perfect hiding spot.

It was only fifteen minutes later and John was getting bored. He hummed quietly to himself as he sat in the dark space, flicking the sword absently along with his tune. Strangely, hiding in a cupboard wasn’t something horribly new to him. He could be patient. He could be quiet. And he could wait for Harry to come find him. Not unlike most Friday nights.

_Johnny_

John’s ears perked. In the din of the noise outside of the wardrobe, he could swear he’d heard his name. Whether it was Harry or not, he definitely wasn’t sure. But he heard his name. Totally heard his name.

_Johnny lee…._

Ok, most certainly his name. Somewhere nearby, somewhere outside of the wardrobe. It wasn’t yelling or cross or annoyed, so it wasn’t mum. Maybe Harry was just chanting as she looked for him. He drew up into a crouch. Maybe if he surprised her, she’d let him go hide again. He caught his tongue between his teeth and strained his ears.

_Johnny_

Just outside. Near the door. Oh, Harry was gonna have a shock. A hand ran along the side of the wardrobe and John almost laughed. Almost. It was too good, getting a jmp on his sister. At the last possible moment, just before the door was pulled open from the outside, John launched himself from the crouch, hitting the door with his shoulder, shield up, sword up, and burst out of the wardrobe with a loud cry, “For Narnia!” He landed in a heap on top of the prowler with an unrestrained giggle. “Gotchya!”

The gasp was the first thing John heard that didn’t sound like Harry. And he looked down in horror as he realized he’d landed on someone very much not Harry. Harry didn’t have dark curls, or scrawny limbs, or bandaids on her knees, or a face like that…

“Shit,” John blurted out and clamped a hand over his mouth at the cuss. Then he scrambled back, bumping into the wardrobe behind him. “Sorry!”

The shocked look on the young boys face melted into a pout and then into something much stranger, keener, sharper, and John felt himself flush as he held out a hand to help the kid up. “Do you often burst out of cupboards at strangers?”

“I um… I thought you were my sister,” John said softly.

Back to standing, and nearly as tall, though significantly lankier than John, he wrinkled his nose. “Your sister?”

John chewed his lip and shrugged. “I heard my name. I thought it was her.”

“Oh.”

John dug the toe of his trainer against the floor. “You alright?”

The other boy shrugged and stooped to pick up his hat and cardboard roll. “Johnny, hm?”

John shifted back. “What?”

The boy set the newspaper hat over his curls and brandished the cardboard roll like a sword, poking John in the belly. “I was singing a shanty like a proper pirate. And your name must be Johnny.”

John recovered before he was poked again, knocking the roll away with his forearm and jabbing back with his plastic sword. “John,” he grinned as he managed to catch the other kid lightly in the side. “John Watson.”

The kid grinned. “Captain Sherlock Holmes,” he held up his roll and bowed. John giggled. “And if you don’t mind, I’ve managed to escape my brother and I’d like to remain free.”

The kid turned and started to move deeper into the fake bedrooms. John darted after him, catching up quickly. “So… Sherlock, huh? What um… What shanty were you singing?”

Sherlock grinned. “It’s called _Leave her, Johnny_.”

“Oh?” John raised his brows.

The smile on Sherlock’s face twisted with mischief. “I’ve been told it’s about a prostitute.” John giggled. “What is… What’s Narnia?”

“Oh,” John smiled. “It’s a place. It’s a whole kingdom!”

“Never heard of it.”

“Well, you have to get there through the magic wardrobe,” John whispered conspiratorially.

“You’re mad,” Sherlock muttered.

John just smiled. “Probably.”

“Ah!” Sherlock stopped and looked up. “This is perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” John followed Sherlock’s line of sight, trailing up the high lofted bunk.

“Perfect for a fort and buried treasure!” Sherlock scrambled up the ladder.

“Wait,” John called. “You… You’ll need…” and he found what he was looking for. Then he giggled and clambered up after Sherlock.

~o~

“John? … Johnny?!”

“Sherlock!”

“Johnny, where are you?”

“This is juvenile, Sherlock.”

“Oh! God. Sorry!”

“Quite,” the teenager straightened his shirt with a brisk tug.

“You haven’t seen a little blond kid? ‘Bout yay high? Blue tee shirt?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Harry let out a frustrated growl and tugged on her braid. “Johnny!”

“By the by,” the teenager raised a brow. “In your searching, you haven’t happened upon my delinquent brother. Dark hair, curls, wearing a pirate hat?”

“N-no,” Harry stammered.

“Pity.”

“Wait,” Harry held up a hand and shushed the older teen, who looked quite affronted by the rather rude gesture. “Do you hear that?”

Mycroft tilted his head, sorting through the inane chatter and plebian stomping to hear… Giggling. “I do,” he grumbled. It was a quick search, process of elimination, and rather simple in the end. He discovered his brother hiding in a fortress of pillows on the top bunk of a rather highly lofted bed… laughing. “Sherlock.”

“It’s the enemy,” Sherlock hissed.

John giggled.

“John, get down right now!” Harry snapped.

John’s eyes went wide. “They’ve joined forces!”

Sherlock grinned and launched a small shark stuffed animal over the rail and straight into Mycroft’s face. “Shark attack!”

John tossed two more towards Harry with a gleeful chuckle.

“Sherlock, this is childish. Mummy has tea in an hour.”

Sherlock threw another shark.

“Johnny, now!” Harry barked.

“The floor is lava!” John launched a large pillow at his sister, but she caught it and threw it back.

“I’m gonna come up there, and then you’ll be in trouble,” Harry threatened.

Sherlock peaked over the edge and grinned at Mycroft. “Walk the plank!”

John stuck his head up, waving the sword. “Walk the plank!”

“Sherlock, that’s enough.”

“Walk the plank!” they chanted.

“Johnny, I swear to God!”

“Walk the plank! Walk the plank! Walk the plank!”


End file.
